Civil Trials
by Peachesque
Summary: Themed in the USA's 1860s Civil War time, Zuko is a troubled politician's son who joins the Confederate Army in hopes of gaining revenge and honor. Meanwhile, Katara, a runaway slave searches for her brother only to cross paths w/ Zuko and a wild journey.
1. Endurance

The tea is too bitter and cold. What does he have to do to get some hot tea? It is at least 90 degrees outside in the summer sun of South Carolina, and it feels just as hot in the parlor full of sweating, full-suited, rich politicians. At least it does to him, who at the moment looks like one of them in the completely buttoned-up grey suit jacket, a bowtie at his neck, the ensemble that was tailored for him just for the occasion. Sweat drips down his face and back. With this horrible heat, the tea could at least be warm! But he doesn't say anything, afraid that he would come off as Ozai's childish, whiny son.

He has to impress these sleazy men that are his father's colleagues, friends but judges, the leaders and noblest men of the city. If they think Ozai was of worth, a civil man with an even worthier son, heir to their family fortune, they will welcome Ozai in as one of them. He has to pretend to enjoy the company of these pigs, just a few hours more, until the house party is over, and then he can finally take off the monkey suit.

"Young Zuko, do you not like the tea?" Mr. Hei, a fat banker with an ugly mess of facial hair whom was trying to keep a conversation with Zuko says. "It is my wife's mother's recipe. I gave it to your maid earlier, to prepare."

_Mr. Hei, this tea is putrid and I don't know how you can bring it to your lips. _"Oh, no, Mr. Hei, the tea is very tasty. Tell your mother-in-law she is an excellent cook."

"How very kind of you, sir! I wish I could, but I'm afraid she passed just this past year."

_Well, the old woman must have made up the concoction on her death bed, the way this slides down one's throat. _"I'm sorry to hear that, sir."

"Quite alright, my boy, quite alright," Mr. Hei smiles. Success.

As another hour slowly passes, Zuko excuses himself from the suffocating banker and slips his way through the crowd of men throughout the deluxe home where he grew up. Once he reaches the stairs he fumbles for the dainty handkerchief tucked somewhere in his jacket and tries to wipe off at least his face. After an hour of drinking cold tea he realizes the sludge was actually cooling him down, and he looks for something to quench his thirst. A bottle of whisky and a few glasses sit on an end table, calling out. Even though he knows he doesn't have permission to drink, he's seventeen years of age, he finds that it satisfies him perfectly, and continues upstairs.

"Don't you know Father will lash out if he sees you with that?"

Zuko doesn't need to turn around in the empty corridor to know that his snarky little sister is smiling one of her awful smiles. "Don't you know you're supposed to be on the third floor, napping with all the other women?"

Azula takes Zuko's shoulder and turns him to face her. "He is going to be so disappointed in his perfect son."

"Get lost, you little witch."

Of course he knows it's a crude thing to say to his only sibling, but does it hurt her? Not at all.

Azula lets out a long, fake yawn. "Dear brother," she sighs. "You think that just because you put on a fancy suit and lie a little bit, you'll win Daddy's heart. As always, you're wrong. You'll never be his son. He will always see you as the failure you are. All he needs from you is a good image for the counsel, that way they can trust him, and when that happens, he won't need you anymore." She flips a strand of hair, her eyes closing slightly, then returns. "You will be kaput."

Zuko quickly shoves her pretty little shoulder against the wall and she barely flinches. "You will shut your mouth, Azula. Go upstairs. Now."

The harsh stare between their similar golden eyes are broken when a call is heard from the floor down: "Son! Zuko."

Zuko shoves the drink into his sister's palm and goes to look down the staircase. There Ozai stands at the bottom step, looking up at him. "Yes, Father."

"Join me in my study." Zuko watches as Ozai slips back through the crowd and eventually disappears behind his study's door; then he begins descending down.

"I will be here, waiting to say _I told you so,_" Azula's slithering words haunt him until he is on ground floor, and he manages to shake them off.

With a single knock, Ozai permits Zuko to enter. Inside the room it is much cooler compared to the rest of the house, and Zuko's body relaxes a bit. His father is sitting at his desk, papers scattered across the oak finish, and he looks up. "Take a seat."

"Is it urgent, sir? Is something wrong?" Zuko is staring at the very regal-looking man before him, searching for something amiss in his expression.

After a moment Ozai replies, "I have requested you to inform of how pleased I am of your behavior today. I have received many comments and compliments on how intelligent, studious, and well-managed you are. You have made me proud, Zuko." Zuko wishes his father would smile. Just a tiny smirk would prove to Azula that Ozai wasn't _using _him, but he really did love him. But, Ozai carries on. "However. Some have mentioned that when they asked you of your opinion on the war, you portrayed no interest whatsoever. Is this true?"

The war, a civil war of their unique country had just begun a few months before. The South was seceding from the union, due to an argument that slavery should remain a lifestyle, or _every_ man is entitled to freedom, including those enslaved. Zuko was raised that he was superior to the darker-skinned inhabitants of his town, supported the war and was proud that the South was beginning to secede.

"No, sir," he answers, astonished. He portrayed _no interest whatsoever?_ What madness! "That is not true! I—"

"Shush," Ozai demands, and Zuko's ears burn with the tone he uses. "I realize that you are supportive of the war, but I've been told that it is clear that you are…confused, so to say, about slavery. It shows that you are weakened by the subject. Do you think otherwise?"

Zuko takes a moment, lets the accusation sink in. _Confused? By slavery? _The longer he thinks, he realizes that it is true. He has always questioned the ways of the South, slavery, _why _it is what it is, but distracted with the pride of his family and the South he has never really thought about it directly, avoiding it even. And now he realizes that he _is_ troubled by the subject.

"No, sir," he replies, shame washing over him. "I cannot argue."

Ozai shakes his head and says, "Do you have any idea how that makes this family look? Your own Uncle is a Colonel of a Confederate regiment and your cousin is Lieutenant Colonel. It disgraces."

"I am sorry, Father," Zuko says. "Hear my plea, I'm sorry I've appeared this way, and I promise that I will prove my loyalty to the South. I will fix this anyway I can."

"You are right," his father looks up from a moment looking at his desktop; his eyes are piercing. "You _will_ fix this. You are not a boy any longer. I have thought this over, and it is time that you prove your honor to this family, to me."

Zuko is sweating now, anxiously waiting. Ozai's next words make his gut sink: "You will enlist, Zuko. And you will bring great honor to this family."

Biting his tongue, Zuko stares at his father for a moment, then stands, and bows his head. "As you wish, Father." As he exits the study, totally winded, he knew he would not have dared to argue. He had to obey.

And now he was to be a soldier.

**Civil Trials is an **_**Avatar: the Last Airbender**_** crossover alternative universe with the United States' Civil War based setting and time adventure/romance. This is a Zutara fanfiction. I apologize if some of the Civil War content may not be totally accurate; I did the best I could. Hope you enjoyed reading and I'll try to update soon! Thanks! –Peachesque**

**Avatar: the Last Airbender and all characters mentioned © the creators, not me. **

**EDIT: Aug 25-made some changes to this chapter, they are pretty important, so take note of them for the following story. **


	2. Torn

Meanwhile…

Her eyelids drop down, heavy and moist under the scorching sun. Finally she is at the end of the field, her sack full and billowing with cotton. Could it possibly be dusk finally, and she can come in from laboring all day in that wretched field? It seems like the days are getting longer, but she isn't sure of the date, month, or even what day of the week it could possibly be. A long time ago she stopped caring.

Katara spots her brother still picking, near the end of a row a few down. From the way he stands, his shoulders hunched, his neck low, she knows that he is probably more exhausted than her, having to do field work _and_ stable labor today. It also seems like _they _are working them harder than ever in Katara's entire life. Being born a slave, on this same Georgia plantation, it's hard to imagine life otherwise outside the fences. Gran-Gran once told her of her home country, a beautiful world free of plantations, where the people and wild animals lived together. There was adventure, music, and children laughed and played all day and smiled…

"Get moving, girl," a man on one of the horses demands to her. His eyes are almost as pale as his skin. They are empty, even.

Sokka looks at Katara from the field, and she wants more than anything to smile at him, but it's been such a long time in doing so…she turns away and begins towards the slave quarters.

Inside their family shed, Katara greets her grandmother, who is now too weak to work anymore other than in the kitchen of the main house. Katara begins washing up for their ration of food. "I'm tired, Gran-Gran. Really, really tired," Katara says, using a wash rag to wash her feet, rubbing the caked dirt off of her calluses.

"Of course, Sweet," her grandmother replies. "We are all tired."

Katara tosses the rag into the pot of dirty water, and says, "No, I mean, I worry that I have no more hope left. I keep waiting for something, but…there is nothing."

"No, Katara," Gran-Gran gets up from their chair and wraps her arms around her. "There is hope. The war, remember?"

Yes, the war. She didn't know too much about it, but Katara knew that the South wanted to separate from the union in order to keep their right of slavery. She hates the fact that she was known as property all because she is colored. With all of her heart she believes that she is not inferior to anyone, and every person is equal. Therefore she has hope that from this war everything would change, and she'd be freed.

"We still have hope." Katara turns to hug her grandmother back.

Hours after, when it is nighttime and they are allowed for rest, Sokka enters the shed and joins Katara on the bedding they share. Gran-Gran is already snoring softly, but Katara is still awake. Sokka washes his feet and hands in complete silence, somberly. Katara reaches over and hugs her brother's arm. "There is still hope, Sokka. Don't give up."

"I'm leaving."

Katara releases his arm. "What?"

There is a pause, then a sigh. "Mato and I going to the weak part of the fence, where Father left. We're going up north."

A few months ago, Hakota, Katara and Sokka's father, had escaped the plantation with several of the men to make it to the North in order to recruit into a black Union company. Now Sokka and his best friend want to do the same? It scared Katara enough thinking about her father being caught but it scares her more imagining Sokka caught because he is more naïve than the men who left.

"No, if something happened to you—"

"I feel like I have no choice, Katara," he interrupts. "Father did not allow me to come along with him, only because he thinks I'm not strong enough, not smart enough. I have to find him and prove to him that I will fight for our freedom and our family no matter what it takes." Does he really think that is why their father left him behind? _He left us so he could protect us. _

She wants to yell at him for being so dense, so clueless. Katara opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She squeezes her eyes tight, trying to think of _something_ to say. _Anything._

Sokka grabs her hand with one of his, and she feels his arm around her. "Gran-Gran needs you here. Please try to understand."

_Gran-Gran needs you too! You have no idea what you are doing!_

There is a soft knock at the door and Sokka rises to his feet. "That's Mato."

"Tonight? You're leaving _tonight?_" Katara exclaims in a hushed tone.

She hears her brother put on his shoes and gather several things, probably a bit of the food and the tiny whittled flute Hakota had left for Sokka. "I love you, baby sister."

Katara fumbles for him in the dark, tears streaming down her cheeks, and finally finds him. "I love you, Sokka. _Please_…be careful."

He slips through the door so silently Katara can't tell when he is gone. For a few minutes she just stands in one place, so shocked and scared that her stomach hurts. Eventually though, she finds the bedding, curls her legs to her chest, and tries to sleep.

Days pass and there is nothing but Sokka and Hakota on her mind. She has troubles listening to the orders. At night she can barely sleep. The morning Katara had to tell Gran-Gran that Sokka left, the old woman got very ill and could barely stand or talk. If she does not get better, Katara will be alone on the plantation. All alone.

What feels like a week goes by, and along with fear finally comes guilt. _I could have stopped him. I could have tried, made him listen to me. I doubt if he's even still alive...What have I done?_

"Gran-Gran, I don't know what to think anymore," Katara confesses, holding Gran-Gran's hand as the woman lay in the shed. "I am so afraid…so ashamed...And now you are sick. Sokka doesn't know what he's doing, I would do anything to go back and convince him to stay."

"He wouldn't have stayed, Sweet," suddenly Gran-Gran speaks. "That boy listens to what his heart says, no matter the situation. No matter what you could have said, he would have gone. This is not your fault."

Katara lets her head fall. "You are right," she replies. "But I still afraid for him, that he will die. I do not know what to do…"

"Listen to what your heart says, Sweet."

Meeting her grandmother's crystal blue eyes, she says slowly, "I want to go after him. I want to find him."

Gran-Gran's lips curve into a weak smile. "Then that is what you must do."

"No, I couldn't leave you," Katara squeezes Gran-Gran's hand.

"I am dying, Sweet," the grandmother says. "I am old and it is my time anyway. Do not worry about me, you must go." How could she just leave her grandmother to die alone? It was unbearable to think about, but the longer she waited the further away Sokka would be, and the harder it would be to track him. "Katara. It will be all right. You must go."

Katara hugs her grandmother that very night, for the very last time. She packs her mother's necklace Hakota had made out of stone when they were married, a little before they were sold together to the plantation. Then Katara slips out at night, sneaks through the west field, and finds the little collapse of fence hidden behind a thick shrub. It was made by her father with only a sharp piece of wire. When he and the other men had left, he had fixed up the patch as much as possible, except for a small break that if opened a bit, only smaller figures could fit through.

Katara crawls through the very tight crevice, covers it back up with the vine, and stares at the dense vegetation in front of her, a whole new world, and takes her first step.

**Thank you for all the lovely feedback! Yeah, not too sure how accurate some of this is (I don't know much at all about plantation layouts nor the conditions.) If something along those lines bother you and you want me to fix anything, just suggest and I'll do some proper research and correct it. =)**

**Also, I warn you that I am an awful procrastinator. So please don't shoot me if updates get gappy. :) Thanks again! –Peachesque**

**Avatar: the Last Airbender and all characters mentioned (except Mato) © the creators. **


	3. Hesitation

It has been his second month as a Confederate private, and at first he barely fits in with the men in the regiment that is commanded by Colonel Iroh, his very own uncle. But in a month or two Zuko begins getting used to being out in the wild of the Carolinas, traveling on foot all day and sleeping on hard dirt, and the "food" called hard tack (which is supposed to be nourishing and energize him, but resembles and tastes like tree bark).

On the day Zuko arrives at the battalion, his uncle and cousin are very happy to see him but greet him formally as a private. Zuko doesn't really know either of them as a person. Even though Iroh and Ozai are each other's only sibling, they have immense differences and had never gotten along, mostly because Zuko's grandfather obviously favored Iroh all of their lives. From what Azula has told her brother, Uncle Iroh had always been stronger and wiser than Zuko's father, and he had also fought in the Mexican war as well as this one, which Grandfather Azulon considers to bring more honor than a Politian. However, there was a time, long ago, when the two were able to make peace and allow their families to be together.

It isn't until nighttime that Zuko is approached by Lu Ten while he and other men are sitting around one of the fires of camp. The last time Zuko saw his only cousin Lu Ten was fifteen, Zuko was twelve, and the boy had a nothing but fuzz on his chin and dimples on his cheeks. The man that stood before Zuko now had a neatly shaven beard, small sideburns, and a changed, deep voice: "Private, your presence is requested by the Colonel."

"Yes, sir," Zuko follows Lu Ten through the rows of tents, through camp, down a small slope with a roughed out path, and finally to a single ivory tent, the Colonel's headquarters. Lu Ten smiles as he opens the flap and places his hand on Zuko's back to lead him inside.

Colonel Iroh is sitting at a narrow table, studying a map, but stands when they enter. There isn't much difference in his appearance, except that his hair is now completely grey and his beard is longer and thicker. His smile is still the same: friendly and stern, an exact reflection of Lu Ten's.

"Good evening, Colonel, sir," Zuko says, his hands folded behind him. "You wished to see me?"

His uncle walks around the table, a steaming cup of what has to be tea in his hand, and declares, "Now, now, there is no need for that here; we three are family." Suddenly Zuko is hugged, and it feels so foreign that Zuko flinches slightly. "It's good to see you, Nephew! You are looking very well, very handsome, just like your cousin! Doesn't he, Lu Ten? You boys have always looked like each other."

Lu Ten bursts out in a booming laughter and clasps Iroh's shoulder. "Only you, Father, would oversee the fact that we look nothing alike."

"Nonetheless, you are still handsome, Zuko," Iroh is lifting an eyebrow. "Is there a pretty girl at home?"

"Umm—"

"Why, Colonel, I believe you're overstepping your boundaries," Lu Ten steps in. He turns to Zuko, smiling. "Nosy old man."

"Not so," Iroh whams his finger at his son's chest. "I haven't seen the boy since he was a child; I would like to get to know him, if you don't mind. Now. How is your sister, Zuko?"

Thinking about Azula's perfect little smile, her horrible behavior, and the blunt, visious words they exchange daily, Zuko says, "She is doing well, very nicely in her school. Azula is a smart girl." Both of the men nod, but it is apparent that even though Zuko's statements are truth, his tone displays his feelings of her. Iroh asks about his brother and Zuko answers similarly, vaguely.

"Lieutenant Colonel, sir!" Major Tok disrupts the meeting. "Sincerely sorry for interrupting, Sir, Colonel." Iroh nods. "A fight has broken out between groups of soldiers. Urgent help is needed, sir."

"Of course," Lu Ten slips on his cap. "My apologizes, Colonel, and to you, private." He and the major vanish to the night.

There is a short silence until Zuko asks curiously, "Don't they need you? Those fights can get ugly."

Iroh is beginning to sit and gestures Zuko to do the same. "No. Lu Ten is an exceedingly strong man, well respected. Sometimes I think the men respect him more than me," Iroh laughs. "I'm very proud of him. Proud of you, Nephew. I know that when we reach battle, you will do admirably."

For a moment Zuko doesn't know what to say. In training he does fight well; has excellent tactics with weapons and one-on-one combat. He wants to fight fearlessly for the South and his family, but somehow there is doubt if when the time comes he will actually step up kill.

"Colonel?"

"_Uncle, _nephew," Iroh says. "When it is us alone, or with Lu Ten, you shall call me Uncle."

"Uncle," Zuko says raspy and clears his throat quietly. "I know we do not know each other yet …but I was hoping you could help me clear my mind." Iroh is looking at him intently, really waiting to hear him. Back home, Ozai rarely would let Zuko go any further than that. Iroh is so different; he seems like he _cares._ Zuko searches for the right words to say. "I am here, I am a soldier, but I'm not sure if I…" suddenly he finds himself stopping. _Just finish it. Not sure if I really know what I'm doing here. _No. He loves the South, this is where he belongs.

"Nephew? Are you alright?"

Zuko straightens up in his chair. "Yes, Colonel." _I am a soldier now. Stop questioning everything. This is where I belong. _"I'm not sure if I quite understand the plan to Ba Sing Se."

It is obvious Iroh knows that this is not what Zuko wanted to ask at all, not just because the plan of their attack was explained to the men plenty of times already. "This regiment will be one of the many flanks in an ambush of the large Union Fort, Ba Sing Se. At the end of October, two months time, is when our group will arrive at the area, along with what should be three thousand other Confederate men. I predict the battle will be bitter and bloody, but I have no worries. Our men are persistent and enduring." Iroh smiles slightly. "And, when we wing, the war shall be over. The Union will have nothing to stand on."

"You…" Zuko starts, a bit shocked. "You seem so sure."

The old man reaches across his desk to pat his nephew's shoulder. "I am." Iroh gets to his feet, picking up his mostly-full teacup. "It is getting late. You get some rest, soldier. We'll be moving on early in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

At the door flap, Iroh gives Zuko another pat, his smile big. "It is so delightful having my son and now my nephew by my side. Truly delightful, Zuko. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, sir," Zuko replies, his throat dry, and is outside the tent.

Falling asleep this night proves to be easier said than done. In a tent with four snoring bodies, Zuko lies awake, trying to close his eyes, trying to relax his muscles, but his mind reels on and on. Why can't he just stop thinking about the words he was going to say to his uncle? Both he and Lu Ten are so happy and proud to be out here, ready to face battle and ready to die, meanwhile here Zuko is, just confused…

Having not slept, Zuko is up and getting ready for travel even before dawn when the wakeup call is to be made. "Soldier." Zuko looks up from feeding the horses and Lu Ten is approaching. The lieutenant touches the horse's neck, stroking the velvet fur. "Zuko. Why are you awake?"

"I did not sleep, sir."

Lu Ten makes sure they are the only ones around before saying, "Hey, are you alright? You're not the same Zuko I remember, the Zuko I used to roll in the mud with."

He reaches to touch Zuko's shoulder, but Zuko moves away. "I am fine."

"I don't think so."

"I am!" Zuko exclaims too loudly and pulls his head down. Lu Ten is staring at his cousin, watching him breathe heavily in and out. "Please, Lu Ten, leave me be. Treat me as your soldier, the Colonel as well. You are my commanders."

The air is still and chilly; both men shiver. "As you wish," Lu Ten replies and pulls away. "But please don't forget that I am still your cousin, we still grew up together, and you can talk to me, Zuko. My father and I love you."

Zuko didn't expect that, certainly not after the way he was treating the both of them.

The regiment moves on and as Lu Ten had promised, the Colonel and Lieutenant command Zuko just as the private his is. The months pass slowly with the change of summer into autumn. Eventually Zuko barely notices the weight of a small child on his back he has to carry almost always, starts understanding the language and slang of so many of the men, and starts craving the taste of thick, muddy river water on the days when his canteen is empty. He is finally becoming the soldier he wishes to be, and as each day goes by, the small regiment of a little under a thousand men grows closer to the port city of Ba Sing Se and predicted victory.

**What you may be thinking: Whoa! Lu Ten is ALIVE? Yes, I am going my own way with the show's plot, twisting things up a little bit. Also, to clear anything up, Zuko has not received his scar. Thank you for reading, and I hope to update soon! –Peachesque**

**Avatar: the Last Airbender and all characters mentioned (except Major Tok) © the creators **


	4. Open

Dirt roads, blisters on her feet, days of watching, listening, walking. On foot Katara travels, passing plantation by plantation, town by town, seeing so many working slaves and different faces. She is barely acknowledged; she is assumed to be a slave to a plantation nearby. When she is confronted by a white overseer or man, she is always ready with the name the others belong to, and isn't thought twice of.

At her own home, Katara had rarely been permitted to step outside the plantation boundaries, although Sokka's and most of the men had their daily labor there. Katara and all the girls her age had either infield work, took care of the young children, or housework. The times she had been to the town, Katara was very young and not able to remember much of the outings. But now, from her observations and other slaves she has met, Katara has learned more than she has ever imagined possible.

The first slave family that she stayed with for a night taught her how to tell time and dates. One elderly black woman, a slave named Mrs. Ree, whom Katara stayed with for a week, taught her about distance and travel. Mrs. Ree had a secret collection of books, three encyclopedias, those of which she read to Katara.

It is the beginning of September, a month since her escape, and the quaint town of Cay, South Carolina is just waking up to dawn, people bustling on the streets. Katara wakes up from a deep sleep with a slit of sunlight precisely over her eyes, a slit streaming through a crack in the ceiling. She sits up on the floor, in the warehouse storage room. After pulling her long wavy hair into a tight braid at the nape of her neck, she pulls her few possessions into the burlap sack she's fastened into a bag to sling over her shoulder and rest on her back.

She slips out the back door, into the warm air, into the alley between the warehouse and the building beside it. There her kind host, a fifty-some black man who let her stay in the building for the night is already at work, lifting crates from a wagon.

"Good morning, Mr. Tikke."

Mr. Tikke, with his gappy teeth, grins big when he sees her. "Good mornin' to you, Miss Katara."

"Would you like help with that?" Katara grips a corner of a crate that is starting to slip through Mr. Tikke's hands, and gives him back his balance.

"Why thank you, Miss Katara," he smiles again. "Are you on your way already this early? I'd hate to see you go so soon."

"Afraid so," Katara replies, setting a very heavy crate on the earth. "But, Mr. Tikke, I need your help. I know very little about the war. And I told you about my brother. I don't exactly know where he may be headed, where to go next."

Mr. Tikke wipes a trail of sweat from his face with the back of his wrist and takes Katara gently by the shoulders, leading her deeper into the alley, further from the street and out of earshot.

His voice is lowered as he speaks, "I've only heard rumors, but there's talk of groups of people who help runaway slaves, who guide them on a path to the North." The old man rubs the back of his neck. "Oh, I wish I could remember more, Miss Katara, but all I know for sure is that you can find one of these groups in Gi Ne, I think the place was called, a town just over forty-five miles away. The town is hard to find though; easy to miss. It's in a forest."

Katara is unable to reply for a moment, totally dumbfounded, trying to convince herself that something as wonderful could be true. _There's no doubt Sokka and Mato heard of these people. And maybe even Dad and some of the other men…_

She smiles at Mr. Tikke, which causes him to do the same.

"Hey, get back to your work!" a white man with a long dark beard orders from the street, and Katara freezes. He glares at Mr. Tikke's back and the old man turns around, apologizing to his master. The man comes into the alley, passes Mr. Tikke, and suddenly grabs Katara's arm, raising it painfully above her head. His eyes latch onto hers, and even though her arm stings and the first reflex is to look away and close her eyes, she has taught herself to not look away, to stay with the eyes, no matter how much they blaze. "And who do you belong to, girl?"

"Captain Zyon, sir," Katara recites the name of the richest plantation owner of the town, who owns over two hundred slaves.

The man's hand loosens and she pulls her arm to her side, but their eyes are still locked. He sneers before leaving, "You get back to your work as well."

"Yes, sir," Katara automatically says, her voice low, and her heart rising with the familiar anger. She can not wait any longer. She has to find Sokka, and together they will be free, leave this horrible life behind.

As soon as the man is gone, Katara goes up to Mr. Tikke and thanks him. Before Katara leaves he gives her his blessings, his best of luck, and a bit of food for her travels. By nighttime that day Katara is already halfway to the town she hopes will be her first sure step to freedom.

She has already come to a forest off the road she had been following, and wanders into the wood, not too far from the path, but just enough to be hidden and sheltered. Katara finds a large fallen tree propped at an angle on another and starts making a bed out of a pile of leaves to make the earth softer to lie on. Soon it is dark, completely dark all but the half-crested moon way above her head. As she lays she concentrates on the soft hum of the forest, the symphonies of bugs chirping around her, an autumn breeze rustling the branches of trees, and soon Katara falls asleep, her mind, for once, totally blank.

By midday the next day, still on a road cutting through a thick forest, Katara can hear the sound of wagons and hooves on gravel, and voices of people. Her heart beats faster, waiting to see the town of Gi Ne. But instead Katara soon comes to a fork in the road, neither of them accompanied by a sign of where they lead. After minutes of squinting, trying to see a building ahead, Katara's shoulders sink and she sighs.

"Hey!"

The sound of feet on gravel comes from behind her. Katara whips around, and a small figure is running at her, barefooted, a young white boy it appears. A shiver runs down Katara's back and along her arms and she can feel her body tensing up. _Do they know? Do they know I'm a runaway? What do I do? Do I run? _

"Yeah, you! Hey!" the child calls again to her, closer, and Katara realizes that the boy is actually a girl with short black hair.

"Yes?" Katara replies as the girl is only paces away.

She estimates the girl to be younger than her, though not more than five years. She is dressed as a boy with dirty overalls hanging on her shoulders, skin decorated with dirt and dust, but, nevertheless, a green bandana tied neatly in her hair. After the girl catches her breath, she bursts, smiling, "You headed to Gi Ne, stranger? I hate traveling alone."

Why…Who was this little girl, and why did she not realize who Katara was? Did she not see her face? Katara looks at the strange girl curiously, not even thinking of how to reply, just looking at her straight forward. The little girl did not flinch at her stare, just tapped her foot on the dirt patiently, and blew a short curtain of her hair from her eyes. Eyes that were a glazy blue and grey, focused on Katara's arm, unwavering. Katara feels her nerves relax. _Oh. She's blind. _

She starts, biting her lip, "Um, I…"

"Don't worry," the girl says, tilting her chin up towards Katara. "I'm not gonna turn you in. I know you're a runaway. I am too."

"But you're…" Katara trails off, still confused.

The girl shifts her feet around the gravel, walking over to Katara's side. "Blind. Since birth. But I hear really well, and I can feel vibrations in my feet."

The strange girl starts strolling forward and slowly, Katara follows at her side. Feeling rather warm standing in open sun, Katara pulls her thick brown hair from her shoulders and wipes sweat from her face, keeping her eyes on the girl. She manages to stutter out, "But…I'm…Who are you, exactly?"

"My name's Toph," Toph says. "I ran away from home to join the movement, and I'm headed to Gi Ne, just like you."

"It's nice to meet you, Toph," Katara says. "I'm Katara. How do you know so much about me?"

Toph has led them to the split, and she begins walking down the left road without hesitation. "Katara," Toph pauses and smiles in Katara's direction. It is an innocent, very pretty smile. "I'm surprised you didn't notice me this whole time. I've been following you since you left home."

**Avatar the Last Airbender and all characters mentioned (with the exception of Mrs. Ree, Mr. Tikke, & Captain Zyon © the creators.**


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